#and then props it up as being 'better' than a popular one

[mercymaker]

it's so annoying when people think that their choice of romance in a video game makes them somehow superior

[canthelpit0]

Fake?

Pairing: Matt sturniolo x Reader

Word count : 3.2k +

Summary: matt and reader have known each other since forever. And they’ve been attached at the hip since forever. But what happens when they start to just let everyone think they’re dating, since it’s too hard to convince them otherwise anyway..

Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (sort of) fake dating, use of y/n, sweet talk, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), gentle sex, oral fem!Reciving, unprotected, creampie, 2nd person.

(A/N: sorry this is actually so short. But I wanted to write something more fluffy for Matt.)

Being childhood friends with the triplets there was always something going on in your life.

You and Matt have been tied at the hip since you were just babies. And sometimes it felt like he was more dependent on you than his own triplet brothers.

You were always together, hanging out. Good thing you were neighbors.

Back when you were younger it was even worse. You’d always sleep in the same bed. Whether at his or your house, you were always snuggling into each other.

You’d hold hands whenever you went anywhere. You made his anxiety better.

You were always there for him. And always being there for him, you were there for his first panic attack. You didn’t know what to do, but just your presence made him calm down faster.

How close you were was questionable, It was cute when you were kids, but you were both seniors in high school now.

Obviously, you were best friends with Nick and Chris too. Yet with Matt, it was different.

He was popular around school. Well not really him. But he was known because he is a triplet. Matt out of the three of them was the most introverted so naturally, he seemed the most mysterious.

Most people also thought you two were dating. And you did nothing to stop them from thinking that. After all, why would you care about what they say?

Matt was currently pacing around in front of you though. You were sitting on your bed, propped against your headboard, as you just watched him move around.

Contrary to popular belief, The most you and Matt had ever done is kiss. And that was only because you got dared to in middle school. And it was only one time.

“C’mon y/n/n please” he whines dramatically. Matt comes over to your bed draping his upper body across your legs, his hands are clasped together dramatically.

“It’s like we’re already dating anyway.”

Matt and his brothers have a shared YouTube that they started recently, about being triplets. You have featured in it plenty of times.

People were shipping you and Matt. And people in real life also thought you were dating.

So Matt being scared to be shipped with other content creators, or any girl he was around, wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

You wouldn’t even have to change anything about the way you act, really. You two already act like a couple.

“Matt” you sigh your hands finding their way to his hair. You card through it gently rubbing his scalp.

“Y/n/n please” he begs again. His upper body is draped on your legs. His lower body is kneeling on the floor next to the bed.

Matt didn’t like being shipped. But he’d been shipped with you all his life. And if he had a ‘girlfriend’ people would stop getting into his business.

“Okay” you give in. Because of course, you do. This is your long-time best friend. You can never say no to him.

He perks up. “Really??” He sits up on his knees on the floor. His arms are still draped across your lap.

“Yeah, but what does it In tail ?” You ask slowly with a slight smile creeping up your face at the way he reacted.

“Nothing, we just say we’re dating” he shrugs. You already acted like it.

“Y’know and maybe kiss sometimes” he shrugs with a slight smile. He wasn’t going to kiss you every time you were on camera, that’d feel forced. He was just gonna kiss you whenever he felt like it, and use that as a way to show affection.

“Nothing we haven’t done before” he adds jokingly.

In a rush of boldness, you pull him up by his shirt and pull him towards yourself. He gets on top of you with a teasing smile, and your lips crash together.

It’s a sweet normal kiss, there are no sparks. It’s just a simple press of lips.

Once he pulls away you chuckle. “What’re we gonna tell Nick and Chris?” You question. “Are they gonna know?”

“Just let them think we’re dating too, I'm pretty sure they’re already convinced” Matt chuckles looking down at you fondly.

He gets off of you, rolling to the side of your bed. He pulls the covers up and gets underneath. Matt pulls you down too, so that you’re lying snuggled up in his arms.

★ ★ ★

So that is how you two started dating. And that was two years ago now.

At that time they’d only had around 20k YouTube followers and way more on TikTok. And now they were at 6 million.

You were also a YouTuber and TikToker now. Except you post whenever you want to.

You’d moved out from Boston to LA with them because, oh you’re still Matt’s girlfriend.

You have your own bedroom. Though you don’t use it very much. You’ve always loved sleeping in the same bed as Matt, cuddling all night, and that never changed.

People believe you’re dating. Which was the whole point. Even your families do, with no suspicion at all.

Except what nobody knows, is that you and Matt have never done anything further than make out. Even with two years of dating. You just never cared to really.

But you did everything else, cuddle, share sweet kisses, go on dates, hang out, and be close to each other.

It was almost like you were actually dating.

And the reason why it lasted so long with barely any problems, was because you and Matt never had an eye for anyone else. It was always you two against the world.

You and Matt were sitting on the couch watching some Netflix show. Nick and Chris were not home, they were at some influencer party.

Suddenly you turn your body and get on top of Matt. You leave a long kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.

“Matt.”

He looks back at you as you sit there straddling his lap. His hands snake to your waist to hold you. Your hands resting on his shoulders.

“Mhm?” He hums in response.

“You know how we’ve done almost everything a couple would?” You ask slowly.

He raises an eyebrow at the statement but nods.

“How about we-“ you cut yourself off for a moment. You click your tongue thinking of how to word it. “Can we fuck?”

That catches Matt off guard. Since it’s once again not what he expected. He pauses looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks again seeing if he heard that correctly.

“Yes please?” You say slowly. But before you can question if it was a smart idea to ask that or not, he’s already lifting you and carrying you to your shared bedroom.

He throws you onto the bed gently. You tell at the impact but before you know it Matt’s lips are on yours again.

He pulls away for a moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head and throws it away. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but this was different. This felt… sensual, almost.

He gets on top of you, as you lay in the middle of the king-sized bed. He showers you with kisses, slowly trailing his kisses to your jawline and neck.

You can feel him suck on your collarbone leaving a Purple bruise. Your breath hitches as you start to feel his hand start to run over your side.

You keep looking up at him through lust heavy eyes. You watch his every move anticipating what he’ll do next.

“Want me to make you feel good sweetheart?” He teases, his tone ever so soft.

Ever since you’ve known Matt was a romantic. Almost even a hopeless romantic. But maybe it was you all along.

“Please” you breathe out. Matt pulls away slightly his eyes looking over your face. He looks fond. Like you’re the best thing to ever have happened to him.

He starts to tug on your shirt. “Can I?” He whispers. This entire thing feels so incredibly romantic and loving.

You nod, shifting slightly to let him take your shirt off.

Once his eyes fall on your bra he smiles. He smiled fondly like this was all he had been waiting for all his life.

“You’re so gorgeous.“

He mumbles under his breath. His kisses go back to your collarbone, leaving even more love bites on it.

“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise.” He smiles. He places a sweet peck on your cheek before he starts to trail them down your body.

Once he reaches your pants he tugs on them lightly before you whine out an agreement.

As soon as it’s off he starts to admire your half naked body in front of him. Matt perches between your thighs leaving a teasing peck on your clothed clit.

“Please” you sighs. You push yourself back on him. Matt chuckles at the movements. He pushes you down by your hips.

“Patience honey” he chuckles teasing you by kissing up your inner thighs. He was purposefully not stimulating the part you needed him the most.

“Matt please” you whine throwing your head back on the bed as you wait for Matt to do something, anything.

“Look at me baby.” He hums softly kissing up your inner thigh. He rubs your thighs slightly while you pick up your head to look back down at him.

You groan dramatically. “Matt”

The way Matt looks between your things like that only serves to make you even wetter.

He chuckles finally starting to pull your panties off gently. He slides them off and throws them across the room. Be careful not to put any pressure on you.

He smiles down at you. Matt sits up between your legs. “How about we take this off yeah?” He hums. His hands trails over your bra. You eagerly lean up to give him access to take your bra off.

He also threw that across the room.

You sigh, laying back down dramatically. Your chest moves at the impact of you laying back down.

Matt eyes lock on your chest

He smiles fondly. He takes one of your tits in his hand starting to fondle it gently.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby” he smiles leaning down for a moment to kiss you, and then trailing his kisses down your throat and between the valley of your breasts.

You let out a soft breath feeling his lips press against all these sensual places.

“Matt please. Come on” you whine dramatically laying flat on your back waiting for him to do something. Anything.

He chuckles, deciding to speed up the teasing. He places himself back between your thighs. Matt then pulls your leg over his shoulders.

“I wanna make this memorable for you.” He says. But before you can respond he licks a bold stripe up your pussy.

You gasp at the feeling. You close your eyes briefly and then look at him.

Before you can complain about the lack of contact, he leaves a kiss on your clit before starting to suck on it.

His groans were sending vibrations through you. he was sucking and swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices. He was eating you out like you were his last meal.

You were chanting his name like a prayer while he just kept vigorously eating you out. Your hands stay tangled in the messy waves, you gently tug on it.

Until without warning you felt his fingers plunge into your tight aching cunt. You feel him start to move them as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.

“Matt- im-“ you get cut off by a moan when Matt curls his fingers at just the right spot.

His eyes stay focused on you. He watches you with a sharp gaze. Watching the way you react.

His movements speed up even more. And before you can warn him you feel the knot in your stomach snap.

He continues to eat you out, lapping up your juices, until you calm down. He licks a final stripe up your pussy watching you shudder at the slight overstimulation.

You tug at his hair and he finally comes back up with his chin coated in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand, grinning.

“You’re doing so well for me princess.” Matt smiles leaning down and pressing another sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Matt, please fuck me.” You breathe out. You’re tone begging.

You’ve known Matt all your life. He was your childhood best friend. The guy who you’ve been fake dating for years now. The guy who treated you like a princess, despite your relationship only being for show.

And yet all you wanted to do right now is be with him. Be as close to him as possible.

In hindsight. All of this was inevitable. You’ve always been a little too close, a little too touchy. You’ve always known too much about each other.

That was the reason why most of your, and his other relationships didn’t work out.

“ ‘Corse sweetheart.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt and swiftly removing his jeans.

His dick is big. And that’s not even exaggerated. it was bigger than you expected. But it somehow made sense for him.

The tip was the same rosy color he had on his blushing cheeks. It wasn’t too vainy just the perfect amount. You knew from the size that it’d mildly hurt.

You whine at the feeling of him sliding his cock through your soaked folds.

You feel Matt gently push in. You throw your head back at the feeling making sure to keep your eyes on him.

“Fuck you’re so big” you breathe out. Only his tip was in, but the girth was enough to have you drooling.

“I’ll take it slow, honey” he looks down at you fondly.

And all that fake dating, fake love thing you guys have been doing for years was starting to feel just a little too real.

Once he fully bottoms out he sighs. He doesn’t move for a little, letting you get used to the feeling.

“You can move” you mumble under your breath.

“Your wish is my command princess” he jokes slightly. Matt starts to thrust in and out of you. His pace is gentle and slow.

And with the way he is leaning over your body, keeping the eye contact, it seems so loving and sensual.

“Oh my god Matt-“ you throw your head back, your eyes closing.

Matt was just looking down at you all fond and loving. He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world. The only woman whom he cares for.

“Fuck- I love you” you breathe out. Without even realizing what you were saying. You’ve said I love you to each other so many times. Yet all those times it was for show or meant platonically.

But this. This was not. You were in love with your best friend. The guy who you’ve been sort of fake dating for two years.

“Oh? do you?” Matt replies teasingly.

He leans down starting to kiss down your neck once again. And the feeling of that only makes you even more aroused. Your breath hitches when you realize what you’d just admitted.

Before you can panic though, Matt starts talking.

“I love you too”

He wasn’t slowing down. He didn’t seem phased by the confession. Like he knew, or was expecting it.

“Do you?” You breathe out.

Matt pulls back slightly. He looks down at you as you timidly open your eyes again. Your eyes lock on his once more. He stares at you with all the love and lust in his body.

“I should’ve told you earlier.” He admits. He lets out a slight laugh at the idea.

His eyes trail your body. Admiring every curve and feature you have.

“It’s okay.” Your eyes are half-lidded, watching him watch you. “Are you mine now? For real?”

“I’m all yours, princess”

And that sentence alone had you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. the way he was talking mixed with the sensual thrusts he was giving. It all felt so good.

It just felt so intimate and loving.

He leans down again his lips capturing yours.

You sloppily kiss back. His thrusts remain deep and sensual.

One of his hands moves to your breast again starting to fiddle with it, occasionally flicking the nipple.

He pulls away from the kiss. He changes hands giving just as much attention to your other breast.

“You wanna come for me baby?” His tone is light and teasing, but laced with so much lust and affection.

“Please”

He smiles pulling himself up. He yanks your legs over his shoulders, readjusting. He starts to harshly thrust into you.

The new angle making him hit deeper. He was hitting every spot in you, making you weak in your knees.

You whine and moan loudly, not bothering to keep quiet since no one is home. You chant his name like it’s the only thing you can think of- which it is.

His breath is sharp too, he lets out occasional groans which send tingles to your core.

He sounds so good.

Matt’s thumb finds its way to your clit starting to rub in it harshly.

“You’re squeezing me so tight honey.” He lets out a harsh breath.

You can only whine in response. The feeling of him drilling into your cunt is overwhelming. You feel like you couldn’t talk, even if you tried.

“You gonna come?” He huffs starting to pick up the pace, both with rubbing on your clit and fucking your cunt.

You feel the intense pressure of the knot, ready to snap in your stomach.

“Let go for me.”

As soon as the words leave his lips you feel yourself clench against him. your eyes close as you feel your orgasm wash over you.

He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

“Can I come in you?” Matt breaths out. And all you think to do is nod. You were on the pill, but Matt was gonna take the safe route and ask before he did it anyway.

As soon as you nod you hear his sharp breaths. His hips speed up. The sound of your lewd wetness and the sound of skin slapping is echoing loudly.

His hips start to stutter until he finally slows down.

He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

Matt keeps himself inside of you. You feel the way your combined juices leak out of you. You feel the warmth and closure of his body.

He pulls back again. He looks down at you. “So does this count as our new actual anniversary or are we gonna use the fake one?” He says his tone is half joking.

He had that goofy, almost giddy smile on his face. And his smile was making you smile.

“I don’t know we can have both?” You suggest.

After a moment of just staring, admiring each other he pulls out slowly so as to not hurt you.

He stares down at your pussy for a second. Looking at the way it looks all filled with his seed.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiles. He bites his lip when his eyes finally meet yours again.

“Can’t leave your pussy like this.” He teases, stealing another quick peck from your lips, making you smile.

Masterlist

(A/N: again sorry this is kinda ass, but I rlly like the concept 🫶🏼)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolols

[m-neuvillette]

Star Rail Men and their duo Halloween costume

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!

Characters: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Luka, Luocha, Moze, Mr Reca, Sunday, Welt Yang, Yanqing

Notes: fem reader, implied to be shorter and smaller than him

Authors note: Hi everyone!! Our last post actually got way more popular than we thought it was going to so thank you so much for that!!! We hope you all have a safe and Happy Halloween!!

Argenti

100% knight and princess. He’ll be in nice silver armor (with red and gold accents of course) and you’ll be in a long red dress. He will be walking around all night talking about his beautiful princess!!

Aventurine

You guys would be pilots, like in Top Gun! He would be the pilot and you would be his co-pilot, of course! You would be wearing matching green pilot suits and while you guys were out and about he’d make you wear his hat and sunglasses instead of the pilot ones because he thinks you look better in his things that any costume!

Blade

You guys would both wear purge masks! This is kinda of obvious since death is kinda of his whole thing hehe. He’d be wearing a white dress shirt and black dress pants with blood splattered all over them. You’d be wearing black shorts and a black shirt with a white button up splattered with (fake) blood. You would both wear red purge masks to match! When you guys were going out, Kafka said that this was the perfect costume for you guys :)

Boothill

Based on the halloween art hehe but a mummy and Indiana Jones. But he REFUSES to be Indiana Jones so he has his you dress like him but make it cute and girly in your style and of course you’re wearing his hat. Be prepared for him to lowkey moan in your ear all night claiming “it’s what a mummy sounds like”.

Caelus

You guys would be pirates! He’d, of course, be the captain and you his first mate, because he is THE Galactic Baseballer, he has to be the captain. He would totally want to dress up exactly like Jack Sparrow, and how can you deny him that? You would be wearing loose black pants, a white undershirt with a black corset on top, along with a brown overcoat! You guys would totally get matching pirate hats too, because how can you not match?

Dan Heng

You guys are going to be a zombie bride and groom. He actually gets really excited at the idea especially when you show him the makeup and suit he’d be wearing. He thinks it’s so cool with how you do your guys’ makeup as a zombie plus the entire time you’re doing his makeup he loves how close you two are. And when he sees you in that wedding dress costume he knows he needs to propose as soon as possible to make that dress a real one.

Dr Ratio

Easily evil scientist and Frankenstein. You try to convince him to be Frankenstein because he’s much stronger and taller but he gives you a look of “I’m an actual scientist I’m being the scientist”. He also complains that he doesn’t want to be green. So fast forward and you are in a black outfit all green with the makeup and props to be Frankenstein while he’s wearing a lab coat and glasses. By the end of the night he’s a little green because he kept giving you kisses (so much for not wanting to be green).

Gallagher

You guys are the definition of werewolf and little red riding hood. He also thought about this way in advance so his little stubble is actually a beard by the time Halloween comes around. He also got your costume way in advance and he picked it out perfectly. A cute white dress with the red robe of course. He also has no shame in growling in your ear all night.

Gepard

He’s the cop while you’re the prisoner. Poor guy feels bad making you the prisoner, you literally have to tell him it’s okay and it’s just a costume and that it’s not that serious lol. But once you have on that orange jump suit showing off your body he accepts the idea. He also tells you often throughout the night that you’re the prettiest prisoner he’s ever seen!

Jiaoqiu

A witch and wizard. Since he loves to cook he wanted to be a wizard so he could make “potions” with you. So here you are in a black dress and witch hat while he’s in a long red robe making treats and potions. Your guys’ treats and potions were a hit at the party, and Jiaoqiu walks around saying of course they were because your guys magic is incomparable.

Jing Yuan

Football player and cheerleader. Dude is so buff how could he not want to show off his muscles in a football jersey ahah, but there you are wearing a cheerleading outfit with his jersey number written on your face. The number doesn’t last long because he keeps kissing it throughout the night.

Luka

You guys would be matching boxers! it was his idea, because he is a fighter after all! You would wear matching red jackets, because red is kind of his color so the choice was obvious. You’d be wearing black shorts and a black tank top, while he would just be wearing black shorts! He spent a good amount of the night begging you to “fight him”.

Luocha

You guys would be matching grim reapers! He does carry around a coffin, so it’s only fitting that you guys are grim reapers! You would both be wearing long black robes with skeleton masks. You begged him to still carry his wonderful companion (the coffin) around because it fits the costume perfectly!

Moze

You guys would go as matching Ghostfaces! You told him you had to go as him because he’s amazing at using a dagger, so it fits perfectly! You guys would be wearing long black robes with the Ghostface mask. He gave you one of his daggers to “make it more realistic”, when in reality he just wants to see you use his daggers ehe.

Mr Reca

You guys would be the Joker and Harley Quinn! It took some convincing to get him to step away from filming and dress up, but he relented when you brought up that you two would really just be acting and that Halloween is just one big film! By the end of the night he was fully convinced that Halloween is the best day ever and that you guys just dress up every year so that he can make a new film each time.

Sunday

Angel and devil. This is self explanatory but he puts up a fight. He claims you should be the angel because “you’re his angel” you pause for a second while blushing but telling him he has to because he already has the wings and halo. He finally relents after some time but it’s because he loved that short red dress on you hehe.

Welt Yang

You two wanted to keep it relatively simple so you went as nerds! Here you guys are with your glasses, flannels and books looking like the best nerds ever. The funny thing about the costume was March begging you not to become “a real nerd” because she can’t be surrounded by 3 nerds on the express.

Yanqing

You guys are definitely vampires! It took some convincing to get him away from his sparring routine, but don’t worry Jing Yuan was there to force him to dress up with you hehe. He would be wearing a classic black suit and you would be in a black dress with red accents. You would of course have matching black and red capes! At the end of the night he asked what you guys would be dressing up as next year :)

[fastandcarlos]

Mornings Are The Worst : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: as your alarm goes off, you’re all ready to rise, however carlos beside you has other ideas

His smile was popular around the world, the way his eyes lit up was discussed by many. Carlos had the most infectious laugh, his personality could charm the pants off of anyone, he knew how to wrap someone around his little finger in a matter of seconds, but there was one time of day when Carlos was far from an appealing man to be around.

As the buzz of your alarm went off, you were happy sliding your hand out from underneath the duvet to turn the ringing sound off, however the man beside you was far from impressed.

You could hear him groan as Carlos reluctantly stretched his arms up into the air before turning around and showing his back to you. Your head shook as he pulled the duvet to tighten it round his frame, making sure that you weren’t able to get a better hold of it.

“Carlos,” you chuckled, brushing the sleep out from your eyes, “it’s time to get up.”

You shuffled forwards and rested your hand against his bare hip, resting your head against the top of his shoulder. His body tensed up as you got closer, deciding to press several kisses against his shoulder and along his neck. Carlos stubbornly tried to ignore your movements, but the feeling of your fingers dancing along his skin made his heart warm. You could only smile at Carlos’ attempts to ignore you, silently insisting that it was best to stay in bed for a little while longer.

“You’re going to be late,” you whispered, bringing your lips as close to Carlos’ ear as you possibly could.

Carlos remained silent as you spoke, fighting the shiver that ran down his spine and the urge to turn around and wrap his arms as tightly as he possibly could around you. It was a matter of time for you, you knew exactly how to get to Carlos and get what you wanted. You were sure if you listened closely enough you could hear his heavy breaths as he tried his best to compose himself, committed to staying in bed for as long as he possibly could.

You, however, were far from convinced by him.

Your frame nudged into Carlos’, making sure that his attention was back on you. “Good morning,” you chimed, leaning around to get a look at his face.

Carlos’ head shook as you spoke, the smile that usually greeted you was distant. You had to give it to him, he played the grumpy early riser role perfectly, but you knew him better than he knew himself. The closer you pulled your frame to Carlos’ the further he sunk into the mattress, refusing to budge. Your hands continued to move along Carlos’ sides, your movements gentle to make sure he could feel it.

fter a few moments Carlos tried to push you away, using his bum to nudge back at you, but you remained just as stubborn, shaking his body to stop him from opening his eyes again.

“Stop being so moody,” you laughed, propping yourself up on your elbow so that you could see Carlos. His head slowly turned so that your eyes met for the first time, struggling to hold back your laughter as you realised just how sleepy Carlos really was. Work took it out of him, you weren’t blind to that, but you knew just how tight that schedule was too, and Carlos was beginning to push it.

“Come on sleeping beauty,” you teased, brushing your hand through Carlos’ hair, catching the few strands that had fallen so that they were no longer in his face. Carlos huffed as you did so, slowly coming to the realisation that he wasn’t going to be allowed to sleep any longer.

“Can’t you just ring and pretend I’m sick?” Carlos hummed, pressing his head further into his pillow.

“You mean to say, can I ring up and tell Ferrari that their grand prix winning driver is too sick to race?” You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief at Carlos.

“But it’s too early,” he demanded, his voice groggy from still waking himself up, “the race doesn’t even start until 3.”

Your eyes rolled as Carlos continued to whine, “you’re the one who decided to set your alarm for this time?”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Oh, come on,” you grinned, hitting gently against Carlos’ arm. “We can get up and get sorted at our own pace if we get up now, have a coffee, maybe watch a show, enjoy the view for a little while before heading to the paddock.”

“What about if you make the coffee whilst I sleep?” Carlos proposed, earning himself another hit on the arm.

“I’ve never met a man so dramatic about mornings,” you scoffed.

“Mornings are the worst,” Carlos stated, eyes looking across at you desperately. His eyes shut for a moment but you were quick to react, poking your finger into his cheek before Carlos looked at you again, teeth going to bite your finger only for you to quickly move it away.

In a matter of moments, his approach changed. Carlos flipped around and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he possibly could into his side. As much as you didn’t want to react, you couldn’t help letting your head rest against his chest, hand on his stomach.

Carlos knew he had you as he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, tightening his hold around you. His eyes didn’t stop watching you as you slowly melted underneath his touch, finding yourself incredibly settled once again.

“Hm, maybe mornings aren’t the best,” you sighed, hearing proud laughter coming from above you as Carlos sniggered to himself. “Shut up Sainz.”

“Can you just repeat that?” He proposed, deciding to go all out and try and push all of your buttons.

Your elbow jabbed into his side, silently giving him your response to his question. It didn’t stop Carlos from laughing though as he rested his head on top of yours and allowed his eyes to close again.

“Come on…just five more minutes.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[urfavstargirl1]

teach me - e.m. x fem!reader blurb

Summary: best friend!Eddie teaches inexperienced!reader how to kiss… among other things

a/n: i know this prompt has been written to exhaustion but I wanted to try putting my own little spin on it and use it as a warm up piece since I haven’t written in weeks

Cw: 18+, minors dni, kissing, making out, handjob, Eddie and reader are best friends, cuddling in the trailer, if st4 never happened

It was movie night at Eddie’s place. You always went over to the trailer on Friday’s. Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, was usually out at work, and you and Eddie never did anything more than order a pizza and check out a movie or two from Family Video.

Tonight’s movie was Pretty in Pink. Your choice, for obvious reasons, but you had to absolutely beg Eddie to watch it. You compromised by letting him choose the second movie for the night, which of course had to be a horror film.

You started the night with your movie. And once the pizza and snacks were eaten, you and Eddie had gone to lay down on the couch. You were on top of him, with your head on his chest and legs between his. You could feel the soft hum in his chest and the warmth of his body against yours.

He would absent-mindedly play with your hair or run his fingers along your back as you watched yet another Molly Ringwald movie, slowly adding itself to your collection of favorite movies.

You would make little comments here and there, like you usually do, and halfway through the movie, even Eddie had started getting into it.

“Nah babe, she should’ve ended up with Duckie,” he passionately exclaims at the scene where Andie arrives at the school dance and leaves Duckie for Blane. “And what kind of name even is Blane? It’s like, do you want your kid to be a dickhead?”

You laugh at his comment, silently agreeing.

You were sort of in a similar predicament to Andie. Well, except for the part where a popular boy takes an interest in you. But in a way, Eddie is like your Duckie. You’ve been friends for as long as you can remember and were always thick as thieves. Eddie knew you inside and out and you knew him better than anyone else.

In fact, there’s no one you can think of who could possibly take his place. There’s no one else you’d rather have movie nights or joy rides around town with than Eddie.

For some time, you’d been harboring a crush on Eddie, but you knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way. He was your best friend, and his friendship meant way too much to you. You weren’t sure if your feelings for him would be worth the risk of losing him.

And for the time being, most of your friends already treated you like a couple, so you could at least pretend.

You continue to watch as the movie nears its end. You drag your fingertips along the fabric covering Eddie’s chest and watch as Andie goes outside and sees Blane. The shot transitions to a close up of Andie and Blane facing each other. And for a moment, they just look at each other, before moving close and just kissing each other. Their lips move swiftly and mouths connect like pieces of a puzzle. It’s hot. It’s passionate. It’s eager. You’ve never seen anything like it.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips and you tense up. Eddie feels you and turns his head toward you.

“Hey, you okay?”

You move your head from its comfortable place on his chest and look up at him, your faces inches apart.

You interlace your fingers together on the middle of his chest and prop yourself up a bit. You nod.

“You sure?” He asks, eyes cast down at you.

“Yeah,” you reply nervously. You turn your head to look back at the screen and engulf the view before you. Andie and Blane have their arms tightly wrapped around each other, like they want to be as close to each other as humanly possible. And the way they kiss is just… like they hunger for the other. Like they’re in a desert and the other person’s lips are the only source of water for miles.

“It’s just, I’ve never seen anyone kiss like that.” You furrow your brows and cock your head to the side. The vision of such a passionate kiss stirs something deep inside you that you had no idea existed until now.

Eddie lets out a breathy laugh, “You mean, a french kiss?”

You look back at him and into his eyes before timidly looking away. The credits begin to roll and you move from your place atop him to sit on the other side of the couch.

“Yeah, but like, a really… I don’t know… Aggressive one. Usually in the movies it’s like a soft kiss that only lasts for a moment or two. But that? That was like…,” you breathily explain, not even sure how to articulate what you just saw or how it made you feel.

Eddie looks at you in amused confusion. He sits up and leans forward to comfortingly run his hand along your calf.

“Do people really kiss like that?”

Eddie shrugs and nods, “Yeah, sometimes.”

Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up.

Eddie chuckles, “There’s a lot of different ways to kiss, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you gasp and look away, lost in thought.

“You’ve never been kissed like that?” Eddie asks curiously.

Now, being best friends with Eddie means he knows a lot about you, even the fact that your experience with kissing and touching is, well… minimal to say the least. And if it weren’t for Eddie’s relaxed and supportive demeanor, you probably never would have told anyone else.

“Eddie, I mean, if something like that happened to me, I’m pretty sure I’d tell you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow at the thought. The vision of you kissing another boy that wasn’t him like that almost makes him sick.

“What about that kid Kenny from summer camp? Didn’t you say you guys kissed?”

You make the noise of a scoff that turns into a laugh, “Yeah, but Eddie, c’mon, that was middle school. When middle schoolers kiss, it’s just a peck on the lips, if that.”

Eddie nods and looks away for a moment. You can see the gears turning in his head, but have no idea what he might say next.

“So that’s the most you’ve ever been kissed? Just a peck?” He asks in an inquisitive tone. Like he’s not asking to make fun of her, but to get a better picture in his mind of the extent of her physical experience.

“Um, yeah I guess. When you put it like that,” you reply, shyness slowly taking over.

Sex and anything physical wasn’t exactly off limits for you and Eddie. If anything, he was probably the only person you ever felt comfortable talking about this kind of stuff with. But it was all… a bit theoretical. At least for you.

Eddie was objectively much more experienced than you. He’s even told you stories of the things he’d done. When you were younger, it was interesting to hear because you knew so little. It was like Eddie was your teacher, transmitting whatever knowledge he learned through his experience to you.

But as you got older and he continued to have these experiences while you didn’t, it began to feel intimidating to think of just how much more experienced he was than you. Especially now.

Surprisingly, you’d never really thought of doing any of those things with Eddie. For some reason, he always felt off limits in that way. There were a few times where you caught yourself thinking of what it would be like to kiss him and it always made your chest feel warm. But you could never bring yourself to think of doing anything with him past that. It just felt too invasive or intense.

And besides, it’s not like he would ever think of you that way, right?

“Well, do you want to know what it feels like?” He looks at you.

“Huh,” you ask, shaking away the thoughts you just had.

“Do you want to know what it feels like,” he repeats, briefly looking over at the tv and back to you.

You cock your head to the side. “You mean, french kissing? Like that?”

Eddie nods.

“Um, yeah, I guess so. It looks like it would feel nice, but, you know, it’s probably gonna be a while till I actually do.”

Eddie cocks a brow up.

“Because I’m not dating anyone. And there’s not exactly a whole line of suitors waiting down the block just to–”

“Alright, I’m gonna stop you there princess,” Eddie laughs as he waves his hand. He shakes his head and scoots closer to your place on the couch. “What I meant was, if you want to know what that sort of kiss feels like, you can always try it with me.”

You jerk your head back slightly and widen your eyes, “What?”

“It could be like practice.”

You gasp and look between his eyes. There’s no way Eddie just said that. Your lips are slightly ajar, ready to give some sort of sarcastic response you always give, but you come up with nothing.

“Are you… You’re serious?”

Eddie softly smiles, the kind that makes your insides turn to goo. He nods, “It’s ok, babe. I don’t mind showing you the ropes.”

You gasp and roll your eyes but then they accidentally roll to the back of your head.

“If you want to. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”

You blink rapidly, trying to wrap your mind around the offer he’s just thrown on the table, quite haphazardly you might add.

“Would you really do that Eddie,” you ask incredulously.

“Sure, why not?”

“Eddie, you're being way too cavalier about this,” You nervously chuckle.

Eddie furrows his brows in confusion.

“This-This is a big ask Eddie. I have no idea how you’re being so casual about this.”

Eddie shrugs, “You’re my best friend. I would do it for you.”

Eddie wants to kiss you as a friend? Because he cares about you as a friend? This just isn’t making sense.

“Why?”

“I know you’ve been waiting for a while. Probably for that special someone, right? I know I’m not exactly him, but I think I’m pretty damn close.”

Oh Eddie, you have no idea.

“Besides, as your best friend, I think it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re prepared for when he does come along.”

You roll your eyes at his audacious attitude. “That’s not exactly your responsibility Eddie.”

He shrugs, “Still, if you let me, I think I could be a pretty good teacher.”

“Eddie, I’ve let you teach me how to play guitar or dungeons and dragons, but this? I’m just…”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, sweetheart. I just wanted to put it out there, in case you did.”

“No!” You exclaim, surprising yourself and Eddie. “I-I’m just… I-I kind of would want to but-but I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting any of this to happen tonight. And I definitely wasn’t expecting to have my first real kiss with someone like this.”

Eddie moves closer and cups your cheek with his hand.

“Hey,” he whispers. You peer into his hypnotizing eyes, shallowly breathing before him. “If you let me, I promise to take such good care of you.”

You maintain your gaze as your breathing becomes even more shallow. Slow baited breaths fall from your lips. You blink rapidly and place a hand over his.

“Really,” you ask in a squeaky voice.

Eddie nods and briefly looks down at your lips. He looks back up into your eyes and whispers in a deep voice, “Can show you a couple tricks while I’m at it.”

He winks and your eyes widen. “Does that sound good?”

You’re rendered speechless, but have enough functioning brain cells to nod.

“Before we get started, I want to try something.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Okay?”

“French kissing is more than just pressing your lips to someone else’s, babe. So I think you should know how to move your lips and how to use the other parts of your mouth before we do anything.”

“What?” you gasp, trying to wrap your mind around what Eddie’s saying.

“I’m gonna show you a trick. This is how I used to practice on my own. Then you start practicing with another person, but it helps to have an idea of what you’re doing before the kiss has even started.”

“Oh,” you nod in confusion.

“So what you’re gonna do is take your index finger. Now move it horizontally and bring it close to your lips,” Eddie instructs and you do as he says.

“Part your lips a bit, just enough so that your finger fits between them. Yeah like that,” he says.

You cast your gaze down, slightly uncomfortable looking Eddie in the eyes.

“Now, relax. Make sure your lips are soft. Don’t want them to be tense.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and widen your lips a bit, gauging for how tense or relaxed they are, before softening them and keeping them wide enough for your finger to fit.

“Now, it’s gonna sound weird, but just kiss your finger. You’re gonna want to start so that your lips fit around your finger, then you slowly want to close them till they’re shut. I’ll show you.”

Eddie takes his own index finger between his lips and looks you in the eye as he imitates the gestures. Your throat grows dry at the sight.

“Now, you try.”

You look down at your finger and blink. You close your eyes and bring it closer to your lips. You brush your lips over your finger till they touch and you seal the touch with a kiss, lightly making a small smack sound.

You gasp at the noise and the sensation, fluttering your eyelids open.

“Perfect. That was great.” Eddie excitedly says. You look up at him and shyly smile.

“Now try doing it again a few more times.”

“A few more times? Eddie! When are we gonna…” You cut yourself off. Realizing how eager you sound.

Eddie smirks and laughs. “Patience, babe. I promise, this stuff really helps.”

“Okay, I guess.” You shrug and practice kissing your finger a few times.

“Does it feel okay?”

You shrug, “Yeah, feels fine.”

“Okay, now I want you to try again, but this time, try adding your tongue.”

“My tongue?”

“Yes, babe, your tongue,” he chuckles.

You blink in confusion before bringing your finger back up to your lips. You close your eyes and brush your lips over your finger, letting your tongue lightly graze the skin before sealing the kiss.

You pull away slightly and open your eyes, brows furrowed. “Did I do it right?”

“It was hard to tell, your finger was covering your tongue. But if it felt right then yeah.”

“Eddie, how am I supposed to know what feels right? I’ve never done any of this before.”

Eddie comfortingly places a hand on your outer thigh and squeezes. “Hey, I know it seems really confusing. But the thing is, your body knows a lot more than your mind does. Just pay attention to what things make you feel good.”

“Okay,” you nod.

“Remember, this is supposed to feel good. You’re supposed to feel relaxed. If anything hurts or makes you feel tense then something’s wrong. And if it is, then I want you to tell me, okay?

You nod, taking in his words.

“We’re gonna start off slow, okay sweetheart? I’ll warm you up a bit first.”

“Huh,” you blink.

“Here, lay back,” he whispers. He moves back and gestures for you to lay down on the couch.

You shuffle to lie down with your back flat against the couch seat and look up at Eddie as he moves the blanket you two were using earlier to the ground.

He sniffles and moves the long sleeves of his henley up his forearms. He brings a knee to the side of your leg closest to the back of the couch and places a hand on either side of your face.

“Normally, you don’t really have to announce every single thing you do before you do it, but I will since it’s your first time,” he says.

“Ok,” you gasp.

“So, I’m gonna start by kissing different parts of your face first. Then I’ll move to your lips.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Eddie’s hair hangs above you like a waterfall. He slowly starts to move downward and you close your eyes. You feel Eddie’s soft lips press against your forehead. He slowly inches down to your nose, then to your cheek. He places a hand along your neck and presses little kisses along your jaw.

Without even thinking, you reach out for him. One hand finds its way to his neck and the other to his shoulder.

His lips trail to your neck where he leaves warm open mouthed kisses that make your insides feel relaxed.

“Feeling good?” Eddie asks.

“Mhm,” you hum as you flutter your eyelids open. The soft light of the lamp on the side table glows around him. His warm eyes and soft lips beckon you toward him

“I’m gonna kiss you on the lips this time,” he whispers, lips hovering a few inches above yours. “And for now, just follow my lead, okay? If at any point you want to stop, just let me know.”

“Okay,” you nod and close your eyes.

Eddie moves down and gently brushes his lips on yours. Sort of like how he taught you to kiss your finger the first time. Even though your lips are closed while his are apart, you feel the warmth of his mouth a bit.

“Part your lips a little,” he mutters.

“Oh, right” you whisper and part your lips with the motion of your words.

He kisses you again, this time letting your top lip fit between both of his, his bottom lip between both of yours. You kiss him back and hum at the sensation. You start to feel him smiling against your lips.

He kisses you again this time letting his top lip fit between yours. You continue to kiss like that, alternating the feeling of your lips between each others. Little by little Eddie guides you to part your lips more and more as each kiss melts into the next. You start to feel more of the warmth in his mouth.

Your left hand moves to rest along his neck, with your thumb stroking the skin of his clean shaven jaw. Your right hand moves up to his hair, fingertips coming through his roots. He groans into the kiss before you rest your hand to cradle the back of his head.

Eddie uses the hand that isn’t currently propping himself up to touch along your neck, travel along your arm and end up on your waist. He squeezes lightly before hooking his arm around your mid-back. He leans down more and brings your body up, flush against his. Without even thinking about it first, your body responds by arching your back.

You guess Eddie was right. Your body does know more than your brain sometimes. Even your body knows how much it wants him.

You focus your attention back on Eddie’s lips, breathing through your nose so as not to break the kiss to catch your breath.

You’ve found a perfect rhythm together. The kiss is at just the right pace. Just the right amount of back and forth. Not too much pressure. It’s just perfect.

And god, you can’t believe how good it feels to touch Eddie like this. To feel him like this. It feels like your lips were made for each other. Like kissing was invented just for you and Eddie to know pleasure.

When you started, it was like you were just an ice cube, and slowly, Eddie’s been melting you into a puddle of water.

And just when you think you’ve fully melted, Eddie decides to turn up the heat a bit. Between kisses, Eddie slips his tongue in and glides it swiftly along your bottom lip. You gasp into the kiss. It throws your mind off guard, but your body knows just what to do.

On the kiss after that, your tongue imitates his, mirroring his movements. Eddie hums into your mouth and your back arches slightly.

Something shifts after that. The blood in your veins pumps a little faster. Your breathing is a little deeper, bringing more oxygen into your system. Your skin hums with electricity. Your senses heighten. You want every inch of your skin to be touching every inch of Eddie’s skin like two magnets being pulled together by their opposing poles.

You feel your head moving forward and back as your kisses with Eddie get faster, more aggressive. Like your mouths are trying to explore every single possible way they can fit together.

Your heads tilt from side to side and you feel his nose brush against yours. You hook your arms around his neck, letting your fingers roam through his scalp and the warm skin of his face. You whimper needily into his mouth. Sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.

To touch Eddie was one thing. To feel him was a whole other thing. But to taste him? Oh god, there is no going back.

Kissing him like this makes you feel so alive. The feeling of his lips and tongue and mouth intertwined with yours is intoxicating beyond belief.

Eddie Munson has become your new favorite flavor.

As your kisses deepen and speed up in pace, Eddie switches his hands, moving the left one to hold himself up and the right one to touch you. He hikes your left leg up and hooks it around his waist.

You whine into his mouth and pull back slightly. You hear Eddie’s haggard breathing.

“Oh Eddie,” you moan before connecting your mouth back to his.

You two resume kissing. It’s an all-consuming kiss. Like your brain has turned off and everything else in your body has turned on. Just for Eddie.

And it appears that the same has happened for Eddie. He begins to grunt and hum in your kisses. He hungrily touches and squeezes you along your waist and hips, reaching below the fabric of his shirt you borrowed to press against your skin. Your kisses become faster and sloppier.

Interspersed between kisses, he’ll bite your bottom lip, making you gasp against his mouth. You try biting his lip back. Your kisses have become so fast that you can’t find the right moment. Until one particularly quick pause between kisses he uses to catch his breath. When he brings his lips back to yours, you fit his bottom lip between your teeth and lightly apply pressure.

Eddie groans and you smile, feeling triumphant at your successful move. You continue to kiss like that, going through waves of fast and harsh kissing to slower, more melodic kissing.

You didn’t realize it would go on this long, kissing. Or, you didn’t realize you and Eddie would be kissing for this long. The kiss in Pretty in Pink only lasted for the last few minutes of the movie. You have no idea how long kissing Eddie has been. Could be a few minutes or a few hours.

You could go on for the rest of the night if he let you. There’s no place you’d rather be than in Eddie’s arms. Till his arms get tired and he breaks the kiss.

His breathing fans your face until he moves away from your face and sits back on the other side of the couch. You look at him through hooded eyelids. He moves his shoulders and flexes his fingers.

Your body is so full of light yet feels like it weighs more than a bag of bricks as you struggle to sit up, your muscles so weak from the pleasure of kissing Eddie.

Eddie breathes harshly and looks down. He runs a hand through his hair and looks up at you. He smiles painfully and you scoot closer to him.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah… I, uh… got something I need to take care of,” Eddie grunts.

“Wait, what is it?”

Eddie looks at you, like he’s masking some sort of pain.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah I just um…” Eddie looks into your eyes before closing his own.

“Eddie, you’re never shy around me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You just… sort of gave me a boner, sweetheart,” he answers, gruffly calling you his favorite pet name as he palms his pants.

Your eyes widen, “Oh.”

“I am painfully hard babe. But don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

Eddie stands up but you grab his hand. “Wait.”

He looks at you and you tug, motioning for him to sit back down.

“Do you… I mean, could I… maybe I can help you take care of it?”

“You want to?” He asks, eyebrows slightly raised and a lazy smile forming in his lips.

You smile bashfully, “Yeah.”

“You sure? No pressure at all, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I want to,” you smile and shuffle closer to him, “If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, it’s more than okay,” he grunts, shuffling to sit closer to you so that your thighs are touching.

You look down onto his lap and notice the subtle outline under the fabric of his plaid pajama pants.

He palms the outline and you see it shift beneath the fabric.

You probably should be doing something besides staring straight at his lap, but something about the male anatomy is so foreign to you, it amazes you to see it like this. To see him like this.

“Wanna help me with this, sweetheart?” He grunts.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you mutter under your breath.

You hesitantly reach forward and place your hand over the outline of his dick. Your eyelids flutter and you relish the sensation of his hardened yet clothed dick in the palm of your hand. You slowly press down and push your hand forward.

Eddie hums and you look up at him. His eyes are closed, lashes fallen upon his rosy cheeks, lips slightly ajar. He’s never looked more beautiful.

You look back down, with focus, and repeat your action with a bit more confidence. You feel his chest move along the side of your shoulder.

You bring your hand down to move a third time, but Eddie beats you to the punch. He brings his fingers up to the waist band of his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips up and pushes the fabric down towards his knees, letting them fall to his ankles.

And there it is. Without warning, his unclothed cock springs out, meeting you for the first time. You gape at the site of it. Of him. You swallow nervously. You’ve never seen anything like it. But, now you understand why a banana was used at the condom demonstration in health class.

In the soft glow of the yellow lamp light, you see the stiff rigidness of his hardened cock, standing freely on its own.

Eddie reaches to grab it with his hand. He begins slowly stroking up and down.

You look at him and his eyes are closed again.

“Here,” you say as you shoo his hand away. Reaching for his cock and grabbing it in your hand, “Let me.”

You look at him again and this time his eyes are open. He looks down at his dock in your hand, then up into your eyes. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You can feel his cock twitch in your hands and you tense up, slightly squeezing it.

“Move your hand up and down,” he breathes.

You nod and loosen your grip to stroke up and down.

“You can keep a tighter grip, like before.”

Like before, when you were nervous?

You tighten your grip and hesitantly move your hand up and down his cock.

He takes the arm closest to you and snakes it around your waist. The gesture brings you closer to him and you take the opportunity to kiss him again.

You lean forward and press your lips against his. He’s slightly taken aback, but by the second kiss he’s already kissing you back at full force.

You hear him loudly breath through his nostrils and feel his chest rise and press close to yours as you continue to jerk up and down his dick.

Eddie pulls away momentarily and listfully gazes at you.

“Remember to get the head too,” he softly instructs as he looks down at your hand.

“What,” you ask in confusion as you meet his gaze.

He holds his hand atop yours and guides it upward, letting your thumb run over the head of the hard cock. It feels smoothers than the skin in the base, and even sort of wet.

“Use the precum, it’ll help your hand glide a little better.”

“Huh,” you flutter your eyelashes, slightly overwhelmed by all the different sensations currently flooding your system.

“Or if it helps, you can try spitting into your hand or licking it for better traction.”

Oh. You take his words of advice and bring your hand up to your mouth. You lick a stripe and bring it down to the base. You pump upward and back down. You let your palm travel up one side, over the throbbing head, and over the other side.

You move your hand back upright and pump again, letting your thumb rub circles over the head to smear more precum.

It doesn’t escape your notice that Eddie shudders every time you do this. Every time you do much as touch the head of his cock he's a breathless mess.

You’re so lost in concentration, wanting to make sure your doing it right and making Eddie feel good that you don’t even think to kiss him again.

But while you’re making Eddie feel good, he wants to do something for you too. The only problem is, the way you’re touching him is making him have an out of body experience. It’s so good, he barely had control over his own limbs.

The mist he can do is lazily pulls you closer to his and press sweet open mouthed kisses into your neck.

Normally, you would’ve been ticklish along your neck, but something about Eddie’s touch is different. It makes you feel warm and bright. You hum and whimper when he kisses over the most sensitive spots.

He lets his lips travel to your ear. He bites on the lobe and tugs.

He whispers into the shell, “You’re so good at this babe. Are you sure this isn’t your first time?”

You giggle like a schoolgirl and smile triumphantly.

The sound of your voice drives Eddie wild and in a moment of impulse, he wraps his other arm around your waist and tightens his grip.

His kisses along your neck grow sloppier and your movement on his cock speed up, becoming harsher with each stroke.

“Sweetheart,” he grunts. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen constrict.

“Yeah?” You ask.

He grunts again, “I’m gonna—think I’m gonna co—“

And before he can even say the word, he comes.

“Eddie, what’s happening? What do I do?”

You freeze.

Eddie moves one hand to stroke his clock, pumping till the last big of cum comes out. It spills out of his leaky cock and onto his hips.

You’re so in shock and still overcome by pleasure that you’re frozen in this moment, simply an observer of Eddie’s current state.

“Well my darling, you just made me cum,” Eddie smiles cockily at you.

You smile back, slightly confused but overall pleased.

Eddie leans forward and kisses you. You kiss him back, but before he deepens the kiss, he pulls away. He fixes himself and excuses himself to go to the bathroom and clean himself up.

You suppose you should probably clean yourself up a bit too. This was far dirtier than anything you’d done before, so you go to the sink to wash your hands and fix yourself a glass of water.

You set the glass on the side table and sit back down on the couch.

After a few minutes, Eddie comes back out and joins you.

“You okay?”

“More than okay, babe,” he grins smugly.

You hide your smile and take a sip of water.

“Want some?” You offer to him.

He plops down next to you and accepts the glass, nearly chugging it all.

“Hey,” you smack his arm. “I asked if you want some, not all of it.”

Eddie chuckles and wipes his mouth with the back of his.

“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, I’ll get you some more,” he says cheekily. He leans over and gives you a kiss before getting up to refill the water.

He comes back and passes you the glass. You take a sip and place it back on the side table before Eddie tackles you on the couch.

You shriek as you move down to lay on the couch while Eddie moves to lay on top of you.

“Eddie, I can’t breathe!”

“Me neither. You really know how to take a guy's breath away sweetheart.”

You smile at his cheesiness.

“No I meant, you’re right on my lungs. It’s hard to breathe.”

Eddie takes this as the opportunity to basically manhandle you, picking you up and switch positions so that he’s laying down on the couch and you’re on top of him. Sort of like how you were when you first started movie night.

“That better babe?”

You press a kiss to his lips, letting him deepen it a bit before pulling away.

“Now it is,” you say matter of factly.

“I’m not gonna lie, you’re a really good kisser baby.”

Your heart lightens at the compliment. Eddie has kissed other people before, so the fact that he thinks you’re a good kisser is saying a lot.

“Where’d you learn how to kiss like that?” He asks.

You roll your eyes at his self-indulgence.

“Well, I had this teacher…” you play along.

“Must’ve been a hell of a teacher.”

“He was a pretty good teacher, but I think I also just had a natural ability. A gift some might call it.”

“Oh I definitely would. Those pretty lips were very gifted. Those hands… even more,” he teases as he leans forward for a chaste kiss.

You move your hand forward to cup his cheek.

“Is class still in session Mr. Munson,” you ask in a flirty voice.

One of Eddie’s eyebrows cocks up suggestively.

“Because there is so much I want you to teach me.”

[insecure-snek]

I feel like this is probably an unpopular opinion (that’s why I’m posting here and not on twitter) but I just wanna know if anyone else feels this way.

Obviously, I think Wilbur is the one Shelby is talking about, and as someone who was also abused, I feel stronger hearing her story. I hope she’s able to find peace soon.

Maybe I’m just an overly optimistic person, but I think Wilbur needs help. A lot of it. And I think, probably not a popular idea, that even though he’s a piece of shit in this situation, that he deserves it.

I’m an overly trusting person by nature. Obviously I wasn’t there when any of this happened. I am just a stranger on the internet. I don’t know what went on, I didn’t see anything happen. However, I think I want Wilbur to get better and I think he can.

He needs to be deplatformed. At least until he has PUBLICLY apologized to Shelby, and is showing to his friends (not us, the audience, not only Shelby, EVERYONE HE KNOWS PERSONALLY) that he is making an effort to never treat another person like that again. But I think, and please don’t come with your pitchforks for me, the person Wilbur abuses the most is himself.

He clearly has other problems that are not making him a good person. Mental health is not a excuse for poor behavior. However, it is an explanation. Your mental health issues and trauma are not your fault, however, managing both those things are unfortunately YOUR responsibility. They are HIS Responsibility to fix and manage, not Shelby’s, not Phil’s, not James, NO ONE BUT HIM.

Call me stupid, or crazy, or whatever, but I firmly believe in the idea of (almost) every human being capable of change. I have siblings who used to treat me terribly, who are much older than me, and I was hurt by them. But as I grew, I saw them realize just how terrible they treated me. They changed their behavior, and apologized to me many many times. They showed me people can wake up and change their lives around. And, whether or not Wilbur comes back to content creation, I hope he gets the help he so clearly needs.

Shelby owes him nothing. His fan base owes him nothing. His friends owe him nothing. Wilbur owes them everything. Shelby deserves to hold back her forgiveness when it so clearly isn’t deserved. She should never forgive him if she doesn’t want to. That’s her right.

Maybe I believe in people too much. But I truly hope he changes. Not only for his friends, family, and loved ones, but for his own sake. He’s going to end up dead if he continues this way, and I believe no one deserves to die. (I’m not even for the death penalty. Let them sit and suffer forever).

Anyway, get some rest all, drink some water, and remember that the world becoming a better place starts with you. Treat people the way you wanna be treated. 💕

Update: Wilbur’s response was absolutely awful, no surprise there. As someone else who responded said, abusers often don’t think of themselves as such. I still hope he gets help. Props to ranboo and all the others standing up to him. I hope this wakes him the fuck up. Until further notice, please stop supporting him. Unfollow him, un add his music, whatever you can to get him to deeply regret this shit he’s done. Those were his actions. These are the consequences.

[jessicalprice]

So I've spent a lot of time untangling Christian exegesis of parables and talking about how the way Christians interpret parables almost always ends up being antisemitic.

But aside from how it makes them think about Jews and Judaism and Jewishness, I also want to talk a bit about how it makes them sympathize more with abusers than with victims.

The easy-to-point-to culprit here is the trilogy of parables that culminates in what most Christians know as the Prodigal Son story.

The common interpretation of these parables is that God does (and therefore Christians should) value a repentant sinner over someone who's never sinned.

The problem here isn't the stories themselves--they're pretty enigmatic as far as their actual meanings--but Luke's gloss:

"Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance."

(Mark says, "So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost," which is very different.

So on its face, in 2023, that's a blatantly dangerous, abuser-supporting belief. What is it like to be a child sexually abused by your youth pastor and to hear that the fact that he hurt you is part of what makes him somehow spiritually "better" than you?

And we can see it play out in the way Kevin M. Young, a popular progressive pastor on Twitter (who describes himself as "post-evangelical" and was the senior pastor at a Quaker congregation) responded to being told one of his tweets was antisemitic, and then jumped in to support a woman who responded by identifying herself as a fan of John Chrysostom (the literal author of "Against the Jews" and the most antisemitic of the Church Fathers, which is saying something).

I'm not going to transcribe the whole thing, because it's not all that important for what I have to say about this, but I am going to call out a few lines:

"The American Christian approach to t'shuvah sees the victim's spirit, character, and speech as equally important to the offenders. I.e. in Christendom, the victim can exceed the sin of the offender simply by their reaction (if it be in sin or acted in a way that is not Spirit led)."

So, to be clear, if someone assaults you, and you don't meekly forgive them in a "Spirit led" way, you're somehow worse than they are.

The uniquely Christian brain rot here is in seeing every sin as an opportunity for forgiveness. After all, if being a repentant sinner gives you a higher spiritual status--if there's more "rejoicing in Heaven" over you--than that of your victim, then you have to sin to get there. It treats other people as props in your salvation journey, not as fellow humans whose suffering matters. (Combine that with the Christian idea that suffering is somehow virtuous in and of itself, and you've got a very toxic recipe. Not only, by abusing others, are you guaranteeing your own value as a repentant sinner, but you're giving your victim the opportunity to ennoble themselves through suffering.)

Of course, a key word here is repentant. Put a pin in that.

These sort of exchanges on Twitter--a Christian being outright genocidal toward Jews, and a supposedly progressive Christian figure jumping in to defend the Christian, with seemingly no ability to comprehend that the Jews in the conversation are human beings who may have their own trauma around violently antisemitic language, with boundless empathy for the Christian abuser and none for the Jewish targets of their abuse--happen frequently and just as frequently leave Jwitter baffled in addition to angry.

Why all this empathy for the abuser and none for the victims?

I think a lot of this comes out of progressive Christian exegesis of parables, which is frequently looking for the radical "twist" to the story.

E.g. in the story of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, the assumption is that the audience of the time would have empathized with the Pharisee, and thus the twist is to make them empathize with the tax collector. In the story of the Good Samaritan, the assumption is that they would have seen the Samaritan as a threat, and the twist is to make him the hero.

The thinking goes that the audience would have had empathy for certain groups and none for others, so the stories push them to feel that empathy for the latter, and that this was needed to balance the scales, to make sure everyone was receiving love and empathy and care.

Except that this, in modernity, has the effect of simply reversing the roles, not balancing them. The groups that are assumed to be in good social standing get no empathy, even become the implicit villains, and the groups (supposedly, since this is now a Christian-dominant society) traditionally looked down on get all of it.

That might still be a balancing act if the "looked down on" groups were actually marginalized. But in the Christian imagination, that role is filled by sinners in need of Christian grace, not necessarily demographically marginalized groups.

The idea seems to be that the victims are getting sympathy from elsewhere, so it's the Christian's job to make sure the abuser/sinner gets sympathy too.

But I'll point again to that pesky word "repentant."

Ultimately, when it comes to treatment of Jews and Muslims and anyone else who points out that a Christian has in some way harmed them, Christian sympathy goes immediately to the offender before the offender has even expressed any repentance.

The repentant sinner is so much more valuable, at this point, than their victims that they must be preemptively forgiven, that they are more valuable purely because they now have the potential to repent.

And this seems to be lurking under not just how "progressive" pastors act on Twitter, but in a lot of our cultural narratives around, say, college rapists and their futures, around white people who are publicly called out for racist acts, etc.

[krisluxxee]

Astrology Observations

Aries 10th House (Midheaven): Having this placement does not guarantee an Entrepeneur, CEO, boss or whatever else everyone loves regurgitating. To have Aries in your 10th house suggest that you are only worried about yourself when it comes to accomplishing your goals etc. For example, while everyone is stuck on social media, scrolling and watching OTHERS, videos- these individuals wouldn't be caught wasting time watching someone else. They will not support other businesses. Watch anyone else videos, or prop someone else up. It's all about them. They will never watch you, instead you'll watch them. These individuals have tunnel vision. Despite popular belief, Aries energy is capable of being patient in the 10th house. The reason being, the 10th house is where the top dogs are, the successful ones, wise, strategic and highly respected people reside. Aries energy wants to be on a higher level and in the 10th house, these individuals will be on their best behavior in terms of doing, showing and giving their best. Mentally, these individuals believe wholeheartedly, no one is better than them - so watching others is pointless and a waste of time. Yes, they are competitive however, they believe (though it's true) that others watch, mimic and try to impersonate them to reach success. These individuals lead the way. This energy is like your man cheating on you with a b*** that looks up & wants to be you. HA!!

Again, this placement has the capability and potential to be a CEO, Boss, Entrepreneur, Manager etc.

However, this placement really reveals how a person is energetically when it comes to their approach to their career / work and that of others.

Remember, they will not acknowledge you.

[baejax-the-great]

Absolutely reeling.

So I knew that the origin of "Hector was a great man, moral, noble, better than all of the Greeks" began as Roman propaganda that somehow has made it to now, the year 2023, and is still taught to high school students.

What I did not know was why scholars shit on Achilles as vehemently as they did (and still do).

My copy of Fagles' translation of the Iliad has a preface by a different scholar who I'm not going to bother to name because he's an idiot (and idk probably dead at this point). I read the entire thing, absolutely baffled, because he would cite a part of the text (that I admittedly had not read yet! at all!), quote it, and then come to the most batshit interpretation based on that quote I had ever seen in my life. His general take was that Achilles was a sociopath who had no feelings for anyone other than himself and his own pride, and every action he took (until welcoming Priam into his hut) was done in service of that pride. To support this, he decided that Achilles did not see Patroclus as a person, but rather as an extension of himself, and thus someone injuring Patroclus was them injuring Achilles, and so he did not care about Patroclus, he only cared about his wounded pride.

Yeah.

That sounded wrong before reading the book, and while reading the book all i could think was, "Did we read the same fucking thing???" Put in context, those quotations still did not support his conclusions whatsoever.

But i cracked open Caroline Alexander's "The War That Killed Achilles" last night, and she solves this mystery of "Hector good, Achilles bad" for me right out the gate (which is good because so far I've only read the preface).

Western Europeans by and large learned about the Trojan war from Roman stories, which became fairly popular, and not the Iliad, which was not translated into French or English until centuries later. As mentioned, these were propaganda that cast the Trojans in a much better light than the Greeks because the Romans believed they were descended from Trojan refugees. This starts a trend that is still going on in scholarly circles as casting the Iliad as a war between "barbaric Greeks living in a shitty, lawless camp" vs "civilized, educated, weaving, real-wife-having Trojans," making the Iliad a tragedy in which Homer for some reason skewers his own people and their warlike culture as barbaric while propping up a dead, foreign city-state. This interpretation is still extant and was the postscript to another copy of the Iliad I have.

According to Alexander, scholars closer to Homer's time saw the entire war as a tragedy--both the destruction of Troy AND the destruction of the Greek army. While this is not covered in the Iliad, very few Greeks actually made it home after Troy. Some that did were then outcast (Teucer for example), some were murdered (bye, Agamemnon), some went on to create new kingdoms in other places (Diomedes), but by and large, there was no going home from that war. There was no great victory with all their loot. The entire thing was a disaster for both sides, spurred on by fickle gods.

Back to the more recent European interpretations of this story, one reason Hector ended up cast in such a "good" light, despite being a dumbass who wants to dishonor dead people just as badly as Achilles ever did, was in order to make Achilles look worse. Why was it important that Achilles becomes a villain in this story in which he is very much not a villain? Because Europeans were involved in so much war with each other and the rest of the world that a young, insubordinate man who criticizes his idiot of a commander, decides his life isn't worth throwing away for this war, and refuses to fight to sack a city was an affront to their values. Young men were to be obedient, follow their commanding officers, and colonize the world for queen and country. Achilles suggesting losing his life is not worth it to prop up Agamemnon's war is a dangerous precedent for all the good little soldiers needed to make their nations wealthy.

It's almost funny that these analyses propping up Troy as a beacon of civilization were made by people living in countries so bent on colonizing the world. They identified with the city being sacked and not the greedy sackers of said city, who they were much closer to. And Achilles, educated, morally rigid, emotional Achilles, is recast as a sociopathic asshole who doesn't care about anyone other than himself, unlike all of those other beacons of selflessness among the Greek leadership.

The tragedy of the Iliad is that Achilles is right, the war is pointless, Agamemnon did dishonor the shit out of him, and it doesn't matter because he's going to die in it anyway.

Frankly, given how badly his character has been interpreted for so long, I think the muses owe him an apology.

[stevebabey]

Eddie loves to complain.

It’s a known fact to Eddie, to Wayne, to every single sorry son-of-a-bitch who winds up being friends with him, that Eddie loves to complain. Half the time he opens his mouth, it’s to let an absurd about of bitching fall out of it. Trailer trash with a trash mouth, is what he calls himself sometimes, always with a wry grin.

Even more so, Eddie loves to complain about how Steve Harrington seems to get everything he wants in life.

He gets the big house at the end of the block, the spot of captain of the basketball team (not that that’s a position Eddie would ever gun for), the stupid title of ‘King Steve’ that let him soar through high school, untouched.

Missing homework? Well, King Steve Harrington just gets a gentle reprimand, a reminder to make homework a priority next time. Whereas, Mr. McKay had nearly popped his eyeball out in stress when chewing Eddie out for his missing homework in the very same week.

Double fucking standards. He’s pretty sure he’s seen Steve get free shakes down at Harper’s Diner which made Eddie scoff— as if the likes of Steve Harrington can’t pay for his own shakes.

So, yeah, to Eddie? Steve Harrington gets everything he wants.

It becomes so much of a habit — bitching and blaming King Steve for every other minuscule inconvenience as well — that even when Eddie has the week from hell and his entire worldview is shifted, quite literally, upside down, he still complains about Steve.

Because, damn it, even at all this, Steve is better than Eddie is.

Ignoring the fact it’s definitely not Steve’s first rodeo, Eddie can’t help but keep the bite in his tone. It feels a bit too humiliating, being kept bed-ridden in Steve’s empty mansion due to wounds that need tending to every day. Hidden from angry mobs because he’s that unlikable in this town.

Worse, is that even though Steve got a bite taken out of him too, he seems just fucking peachy compared to Eddie.

Pathetic Eddie who can’t even change his own bandages yet. Steve’s more gentle than Eddie probably deserves for all his bitching at him.

Because, of course he bitches. Eddie can’t help it; some defence mechanism from within that isn’t sure how to handle the fact Steve is, like actually genuinely, a decent person. It’s worse when Steve waves it off. Shrugs off his pointy comments, might make a comment about being ‘someone’s grouchy and tired’ but is still so fucking nice.

Until the one day he doesn’t shrug off the comment— this time when Eddie makes a complaint, whinging and grumbling about can’t believe I’m stuck with Steve Harrington playing nurse, Steve narrows his eyes. Then he sighs.

“What’s your problem with me, man?” Steve asks, not unkind, just probing. He’s still winding one of the bandages around Eddie’s torso, the latter propped against the bathroom sink.

Fuck, this bathrooms massive. It’s bigger than Eddie’s entire room at the trailer. He hates it for that. He hates that he’s had more gentle touches in this bathroom in the weeks living here, with Steve, than he had in his whole 20 years since— well, since his mama died really. He tries not to think about that much.

Eddie really glad he asked; he thinks he’s had this whole speech prepped since sophomore year and Steve’s stupidly fluffy hair and smarmy grin walked through Hawkins High’s front doors. Charmed his way to top of the school with his stupid perfect life.

But, well, not all of that is true anymore. Eddie knows there’s quite a few holes in his original fantasised idea of what the perfect life of Steve Harrington looks like. Doesn’t matter, Eddie’s still got a bone to pick. He’s stubborn that way.

“What’s my problem? Did you meet yourself in high school?”

Steve winces a bit at that, his eyes ducking away but his hands keep moving, winding the gauze slowly and carefully. He doesn’t say anything, thinking, but Eddie rolls on regardless.

“Dude, you get— you have everything. You have the house, the popularity- shit, half the population of the school had the hots for you.” He doesn’t mention that he was at one point part of that population. Might still be if Steve keeps being so nice to him. Damn, he’s easy.

His tone as he talks tells a completely different story though, all annoyed and dramatic. “I once saw Miss O’Donnell wave off a failed test just cos. Just cos you were you! That’s the same fucking test that failed me the first time round.”

Eddie waves his hand around, on a roll now; he’s had plenty of practice with bitching about the likes of how Steve Harrington has it all.

“I know all this shit is, well, not fuckin’ ideal but even then! It’s like, of course, you’ll roll out of this with some badass scars that the chicks will dig.”

Steve is still listening intently, Eddie can tell because his eyes flick up to meet his every couple of seconds. His hands keep working.

Eddie huffs and winces at the pain that radiates up and down his side. “If you had these scars,” he gestures up and down. His side is undeniably worse than Steve’s own, they both know. “It would just be badass. Survivor shit, yanno? On me, it’s just, like, shitty mutilation.”

The sentence hangs in the air and Eddie feels his embarrassment creep up by how quickly that turned into a pity-fest, which absolutely not the point. The point is that Steve gets it all and Eddie gets nothing — and that’s how it’s always been.

Steve says quiet for a bit thinking as he ties off the end of Eddie’s bandage. He has to pull it tight and Eddie winces again, another flush on pain. Even if it’s not as embarrassing as it had been in the beginning, Steve taking care of these wounds for him, Eddie still hates it.

“So, that’s your problem with me? You think I get everything I want?” Steve asks plainly, pulling his hands back and folding them across his chest. Eddie hates how handsome he looks doing it. Then hates himself for noticing it.

“In a manner of words, yes.”

Steve uncrosses his arms and suddenly leans forward, planting his hands on either side of Eddie’s hips on the bathroom counter. He leans into his space and Eddie has to force himself not to pull back instinctively. Steve’s face is very close to his.

“And... if I want you?” Steve asks, voice dipping quieter in a way that makes Eddie’s stomach tighten. He represses a shudder and only after, do the words dawn on him; there’s no hiding the way he gets a little wide-eyed and fuck, he just looked at Steve’s lips. Wait, what? Eddie’s heart is thudding like a trapped rabbit’s, wild and quick.

Steve’s stare is intense, eyes a little darker than usual. He looks at Eddie and just for a moment, his gaze drops to his lips. Steve licks his own, his knuckles on the counter growing whiter as he grips it tighter and steels his nerve.

“Do I still get everything I want?”

[thebibliosphere]

I saw your post about ingram, and out of curiosity, is there some advantage to going through the whole self-publishing thing with retailers when you're just starting out? like I mean the way that fandom zines work is that they don't even bother going through ingram or amazon or whatever. they just set up a social media site (usually twitter) to gain followers, open preorders (usually 1-2 months in length) to generate the costs of printing upfront, and then sell anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred copies of their books (usually artbooks, but anthologies exist too). I've seen some zines generate over a thousand orders. they're kind of like pop-up shops, except for books. maybe the sales numbers aren't so impressive to a real author, but the profit generated is typically waaaay more than the $75+ apparently needed for Ingram Spark, so I still feel like new authors could benefit from this method too, especially if they just need some start-up cash to eventually move to ingram if they want to for subsequent runs of their book. I think authors would also have to set aside some of the pre-order money to buy an ISBN number to have printed on their book, and I'm not really sure what other differences there are, but I just wanted to ask about it in case there's some huge disadvantage I'm missing!

So, popup zines work well for some people, and I know some authors who kickstart their work successfully. But for a lot, it's just not feasible as a long-term stratedy. Or even as a means to get off the ground.

Fanzines succeed primarily because an existing fanbase is willing and ready to throw money at something they love. They’ve got a favorite writer or artist they want to support. Supporting all the others is just a happy by-product. They also take a HUGE amount of short-term but intense planning that just doesn’t always jive with how some of us work.

I, for one, would never offer to organize a fanzine. I’ll take part in them as a creator, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than subject myself to wrangling that many people and dealing with the legal logistics.

When it comes to authors doing anthologies, it'svery much the same. The success of the funding often hinges on having other big-name authors involved whose existing fans will prop up the project. Or having a huge marketing budget.

Most self-pub authors have zero marketing budget. I’m one of them, and I’m under no illusions that my work would not be as popular and self-sustaining as it is if I didn’t have a large Tumblr blog.

When I thank Tumblr in my forewards, I am utterly sincere. Tumblr brought fandom levels of enthusiasm to an unknown work and broke the Amazon algorithm so hard, that Amazon thought I was bot sniping my way to multiple #1 spots and froze my sales rankings.

That’s not the norm. And while I could probably kickstart my own work as an indie creator, that’s because I’ve put literal decades into building up a readership. I’ve been doing this since I was 16 and realized people thought I was funny. I didn’t know what to do with it or if I’d ever actually write anything, but it meant the groundwork was already there (thank you, past-me). I basically fell upward into my success by virtue of never being able to shut the fuck up and wanting to make people laugh. Clown instincts too strong.

New or first-time authors trying to sell their work without that will find it infinitely harder.

All of that aside, even if an unknown author somehow gets lucky and manages to fund their work, there’s still the question of shipping and distribution logistics. Are you shipping everything yourself? Better hope you’re able-bodied and have the time for it. (for reference, it took me months to ship out 300 patreon hardbacks because of my disabilites. It damaged my back and hands. I couldn’t type for several weeks after I was done.)

Are you going to sell primarily at conventions? Better hope you’re able-bodied, have the time and don’t have cripling anxiety about being in large groups...

Also, will selling a dozen to a few thousand copies in one burst be sustainable in the long run as a career? Not for me. Doing things via Ingram and Amazon means I earn a steady trickle of sales for the rest of my life provided the platforms remain and so long as I keep working and can generate interest in the series, not just when I have funds to pay for physical copies to sell. The one-time (in theory) cost of $75 to distribute through Ingram gets paid off pretty quick that way. And it doesn't require the same logistics as doing the popup/crowdfund.

Ultimately, it comes down to what you are capable of but also the type of work you’re doing. If you’ve got an extended network of fellow creatives who will back you or you’ve got a large following elsewhere, doing it like a popup might work for you.

If you’re an exhausted burnout who can’t fathom the short but intense amount of organization that sort of thing requires, not to mention doing it over and over and over... Ehhhhh. No thank you.

[tyrantisterror]

The Fuck's Up With Mammon?

Ok, so, in the grand history of Christian folklore, there are dozens of different ways that the society of Hell and its various demons can be structured. One of the most popular is The Seven Princes of Hell, which divides Hell between seven ruling demons, each of which represents the seven deadly sins (and is opposed by saints who represent the seven heavenly virtues). It's fun because it's got a solid theological theme and not too many working parts - seven is a more digestible number than nine or, like, however the fuck your sort out all the demons in the Lesser Key of Solomon, each of which has some arbitrary number of legions of demon soldiers under their command, and the deadly sins theme gives you a clear way to make each prince's domain stand out.

(Obviously I'm a bit biased here, since I used a modified version of the Seven Princes of Hell for my own story about demons, but still, I think the point stands.)

Now, who the seven princes of Hell are can differ. Binsfield, the guy who coined the name, lists them as follows:

Lucifer, Prince of Pride

Mammon, Prince of Greed

Asmodeus, Prince of Lust

Leviathan, Prince of Envy

Beelzebub, Prince of Gluttony

Satan, Prince of Wrath

Belphegor, Prince of Sloth

However, there are earlier versions of the seven princes that rearrange things. Beelzebub has been given the sin of Envy at times, Belphegor has been given gluttony, and both Belial and Abaddon/Apollyon have taken the role of prince of Sloth. With me so far?

Right, ok, so here's the thing: ALL of these demons have shit going on in folklore outside of their role as potential princes of Hell. Well, all except one. To wit:

Lucifer, despite being a translation error, quickly became the front-runner in the grand race of "Who is THE Devil in the Bible, i.e. the leader of Hell itself?" It helps that said translation error was made by King James in his version of the Bible, which, while a terrible translation, is an amazing piece of poetry in its own right and beloved by many Christians because of it. Notably, Lucifer is The Devil of Paradise Lost, which is up there with Dante's The Divine Comedy in being one of the most important and influential depictions of Hell of all time.

Beelzebub is one of the oldest demons in all of demonology, predating Christianity itself, and is pretty close to Lucifer in the race for "Who is THE Devil," with arguably a better claim to the position despite Lucifer being the more popular candidate for the role.

Satan gets kudos for being one of the few devils that's ACTUALLY named in the Bible... even if it's less a name in context and more a title akin to "prosecuting attorney." Because of that, he's arguably got the greatest claim to being The Devil, and in most works where a different devil gets the title, Satan is treated as one of his alternate titles anyway.

Asmodeus was set up in folklore to be The Devil, and has a pretty strong claim to the title because of that. He's also clearly what Dante based his description of the devil's physical appearance on, with his three different colored heads and all, and that gives him some major props.

Leviathan is also a rare demon who gets mentioned in the Bible, although in the Bible it's pretty clear he's not a demon but rather a big sea monster, and a lot of Christian folklore treats him as such instead of as a demon. So that's a pretty big "other thing going on" for him - sometimes he's not even a demon, but more of a godzilla.

Belphegor was mentioned in a good number of texts predating the concept of arranging demons by the seven deadly sins, and while he was mostly a minor demon (akin to most of the other residents of the Lesser Key of Solomon, like Shax or Marchosias or what have you), that's still something. Becoming a Prince of Hell gave him a greater claim to fame, but still, he had a career before it.

Abaddon/Apollyon is one of those demons whose name is ALSO a synonym for Hell itself, which is a pretty big deal. He can be a demon, or he can be hell, or he can be BOTH, like in the takes where Hell has a literal mouth to swallow sinners and is portrayed as kind of a living monster in its own right. He also got to be The Devil in Pilgrim's Progress, and that's pretty cool.

Belial is one of the absolute earliest demons, having been cast as The Devil in the Book of Enoch, which is kind of the O.G. Abrahamic demon story (as much as any written story could be the source of it, anyway). Thus, while Belial may not have the most popular claim to being The Devil, he arguably has the best claim to it, or at least the earliest. Also, Belial is just as often depicted as a lady demon as he is a male demon, which means Belial is the best candidate for a Princess of Hell.

But that leaves... Mammon. And as far as I can tell in all my research, Mammon's claim to fame is and has always been being the Demon of Greed. Like Lucifer, his existence is owed to a translation of the Bible personifying something that was not originally a person - "mammon" was just supposed to mean money and other material wealth, but then it became, well, Mammon, the demonic personification of Greed.

He's the demon who was made for his sin, rather than being given it after his creation. The only demon whose existence purely hinges on needing a personification of a sin, the only one who has no other shit going on. Lucifer, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, they all have rich histories as demons in folklore, but Mammon? He's just greed.

And that's weird to me. Were there no other, more popular demons who could embody the concept? How does Mammon feel having nothing else to him beyond his sin? It's kinda weird, right?

I've got no greater point to this, I just thought it'd be fun to share.

[rubydubydoo122]

What are your thoughts on some of the more popular ships? Fanon and canon. For example superbat, bruce x harvey dent, tim x kon, dick x babs, dick x kory, jay x roy, steph x cass, damian x jon, pennywaynes,...

I’ll list them out

Superbat (Clark/Bruce): I find this ok, but personally, I like it when the trinity acts more like siblings, so it’s not my favorite. 5/10

BruHarvey: lovers to enemies? The angst? Amazing. 8/10

Dickbabs: idk. It feels kinda boring to me. Mainly because DC ruined both of their characters in order for them to be together. 4/10

DicKori: they’re soulmates. Idk what to tell you. And maybe you can tell how biased I am. Right now, they are the opitome of right person wrong time. 10/10

Jayroy: I don’t like this ship. It reduces Roy’s character down to a prop, the age gap feels kinda icky and I personally believe in Aro/Ace Jason Todd. 1/10

Superbat (Kon/Tim): the only version of superbat I truly ship. Reluctant friends, to besties, to flirty friendship, to a game of cat and mouse on if that taunt was real or if they were just fooling around? 10/10

DamiJon: I think their age gap never works in their favor. Either Damian’s too old or Jon’s too old, and it makes me feel wrong. And in more recent comics, they’ve been acting much more like siblings than friends who maybe possibly have chemistry with each other. But I do think if you wanted to go the romance route, it could be double unrequited love that was never expressed. Like a 10yr old Jon had a crush on a 13 yr old Damian. Jon left for almost a decade and comes back, looses feelings for Damian, but a 14yr old Damian has feelings for an 18 yr old Jon, but it never works out. 5/10. Just like their Dads

PENNYWAYNESSSS: 100000000/10. Like are you kidding me, this is the best ship ever and I love it so much.

Honorable mentions:

BruTalia: 10/10. My favorite Bruce ship.

Brulina: 8/10. I like it… but I feel like it wouldn’t work out because Selina would get overwhelmed by the amount of wealth Bruce has. Like she thinks it’s what she wants, but it’s too much for her

Birdflash (Dick/Wally): 8/10. I see the appeal, they’re best friends with so much chemistry, but I feel like they would never date bc they value their friendship more and they’re both super busy

JayKyle: it’s the only Jason ship I like, but only because I want it to be one sided, with Kyle failing to flirt with Jason and Jason is completely oblivious and actually just hates Kyle but Kyle thinks Jason’s playing hard to get. (Kyles flirting is just arguing with Jason, so that’s why Jason never gets the hint) 7/10 +300 bc of hillarity

StephTim: I don’t like this ship because Stephanie deserves so much better, and Tim seems like the type to mansplain every little thing, and it would drive Steph up a wall. I also don’t like the notion that they would be friends after they break up. 3/10 bc they had that piano scene

DamiRae: 2/10. Garchel is a better ship, and I feel like their personalities are too similar.

Flatline/Damian: I love them. I think they’re cute, but I don’t see it lasting long. 4/10

StephCass: 9/10. No more needs to be said. But I won’t ever officially write them as being together within a fic bc Steph’s character deserves to be her own, rather than a lover of a Batfam member, and Cass has her own things to deal with

[fuctacles]

Henderson's older brother is kinda fine :/ [Part II]

me: I'll write a blurb and nothing else popular demand: *slides into my DMs* [Part I] [Part III]

They finished Eddie's assignment that first day but Dustin invited him over again the next week. He told him to bring whatever homework he has, and they can brainstorm it together.

This time Eddie braced himself as he approached the door, expecting to run into the older brother again. But to his surprise, Dustin was the one to open the door. 

"They left you unsupervised?" He raised his eyebrows as he stepped past his friend.

Dustin rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful.

"Very funny. Steve had the morning shift today, but he should be back for dinner."

"Ah, the things we could get up to until then," Eddie's eyes sparkled with mischief but Dustin slapped him in the stomach with the strength of a dwarf.

"Yeah, like helping you graduate."

"Oof," Eddie winced, twisting away from his deceitfully powerful hands. "You're no fun, Henderson. Where is your adventurous spirit?"

"At the DnD table, duh."

"Touché."

So Eddie put on his mom-charming pants (they worked the best when no actual moms were involved, just like all his other pants) and did not go looting around his friend's house. Instead, he spread his latest assignments on Dustin's bed, claiming it as his territory for the time being. Dustin worked on his own stuff at his desk, like a civilized human being. Barf.

An hour of relative silence had passed before Dustin set down whatever he was doing and turned in his chair.

"I think you're like Lucas."

It took Eddie a moment to even process the words. He looked up to find his younger friend propped up on his elbow and staring at him.

"Huh?"

"I think you might be like Lucas," he repeated with his customary eye roll.

Eddie thought about the sporty jock-wannabe Sinclair, scrunching his nose.

"How?"

Dustin seemed pleased to be asked that as he sat up eagerly to proceed with his reasoning. Which were for sure very scientific and not pulled out of his ass. Eddie braced himself for an impromptu lecture.

"His grades dropped when he got his own room. But he aced all his tests when it was being painted, and he had to bunk with Erica for a few days. So, we made an experiment and whenever he would study or do homework with someone else in the room, it got better results than when he worked alone," he paused, eyeing his friend. "Are you following?"

Eddie clicked his tongue.

"What I'm following is you used your friend as a test subject."

The boy threw his hands in the air in the way that always made Eddie grin. The kid was so delightfully dramatic.

"For his benefit. And now for yours!"

Eddie huffed in thought, simultaneously hopeful to find a solution for his skittery brain and irritated it might have been that easy this whole time. 

"So I just need a study buddy?" he asked, scrunching his nose.

"Yep," Dustin grinned at him. "I know your uncle isn't home most of the time, but you're welcome here whenever you need to work on something."

Eddie mulled that thought in his head, weighing pros and cons and asking his gut how it felt about it. His gut likes the food in Henderson's house though, so it might be a bit biased.

"You know what, Henderson? I just might take you up on that."

As if on cue, the front door opened and closed, the sound of keys dropping in the bowl following.

"Dustin?"

"Up here!" Dustin hollered and if Eddie was a lesser man, with shittier taste in music, it might have damaged his earbuds. But they were honed in by the sweet tones of metal, therefore a screeching teenager was not enough to break them at this point.

"Oh, hi Eddie!" Steve was standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath and hair not as magnificent as Eddie got used to seeing, a poster boy from a hairspray commercial no more. Ah, what capitalism does to people.

"Your hair looks sad," he observed with a slight tilt of his head.

"Uh," the guy raised his hand to his hair, pulling at the flat fringe self-consciously. "Well, sorry I didn't have the energy to doll myself back up after 8 hours of customer service."

Eddie snorted.

“Doll yourself up? Who says that?”

“I do,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms but the reddening apples of his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. Good. What grown-ass man refers to himself as a doll? Even one looking like an animated Ken. But that would be dark magic, which Eddie of course doesn't condone.

“I think Robin started it,” Dustin offered, unhelpfully. “She was trying to bully him, but it backfired because he actually likes it.” He made a disgusted face.

“Hey!”

“A doll, Steve? That’s kinda gay,” Eddie shook his head feigning disappointment. Instead of morphing into irritation though, Steve’s face hardened, and suddenly he remembered his nerdy friend’s brother was actually a jock. Former, reformed, doesn't matter. Abs were abs.

“Yeah? And what’s wrong with that?” he asked, eyes set on Eddie, unblinking.

He took a quick glance around the room. The window was open, but it was the first floor and Gareth would kill him if he broke as much as a finger again. So he dusted off the little matchbox of courage that was left somewhere inside him, and offered:

“Uh, nothing? Gays are cool. Dolls are cute. All is good.” He stretched his lips in the best attempt at a smile he could muster right now.

Steve still has not blinked, which was starting to stress Eddie out. Were his eyes always this piercing? He was staring for too long, could match their exact shade to one of the trees surrounding the trailer park by now, but was too afraid to look away. If he showed weakness, he might get chewed alive, spat out and stomped on, for a good measure.

“Good,” Steve said finally, and Eddie could breathe again. “We don’t badmouth gays in this household.”

“We don’t,” Dustin nodded feverishly, eager to get his brother out of the room. This indeed seemed to appease him, as he finally unclenched his jaw, uncrossed his arms and rapped his knuckles against the door frame.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower and start on the dinner. You stayin’?” he asked, eyes back on Eddie, who was paralyzed enough, that Dustin had to swoop in and answer for him.

“Yep, he’s staying.”

“‘Kay,” Steve slapped the door frame, suddenly smiling again, and closed the door. If not for the slow breeze from the open window, Eddie would be already dead in the vacuum-sealed room, because he surely took away all the oxygen on his way out.

He scooted on the bed to face Dustin, who was about to open a book and start reading like whatever had just happened hadn’t just happened.

“Soo, is Steve…?”

Dustin looked at him. Eddie looked at him back.

“Is Steve what?” Dustin prodded, in that annoyed tone of his.

Eddie was a wordsmith, he could write and lead campaigns, produce not-half-bad lyrics and lie his way out of trouble. Usually. He got this.

He opened his mouth. Frowned. He did not get this.

“Gay?” he asked quietly.

“Pshhh, no,” Dustin waved his hand. “He’s a ladies' man.”

“Right, yeah,” Eddie nodded like the bobbing head figurine on his uncle’s dashboard. “Then why…”

Dustin shrugged, the unhelpful bastard.

“I think his father is a homophobe? And Steve was kind of a jerk a few years back, he’s trying to be better now. Overcompensating a bit, if you ask me but eh,” he shrugged again. The helpfulest kid in Hawkins. Baby Henderson opened his book, closing the topic, so Eddie fell back on the bed, taking a well-needed break from his study break.

Normally, when the topic of gays was brought up, it was unpleasant and long-winded, full of exchanged opinions, usually hateful ones. Here, the Hendersons were treating it like small talk, not the can of worms that just opened in Eddie’s stomach. Okay, gross. They would crawl around, who knows in which direction? And the can itself? So many sharp edges, so unsanitary.

Needless to say, it wasn’t something Eddie would forget about quickly like they seemed to expect him to.

Alas, he was Dustin’s study-guest, so the kid gave him five minutes to ponder on the worms crawling inside him, before slapping the side of his head with a book to get him back on track. He wouldn’t even let him out on a leak pass until he showed he was done with the chapter he started.

Finally free for a second, Eddie left the bathroom but instead of returning to Dustin’s room, he was lured downstairs by the atrocious sounds of ABBA. Was ABBA gay? He was going to overthink everything now, wasn’t he? Honestly, the whole pop genre felt gay. Metal, that was manly as fuck. Very heterosexual.

For a second he stood in the kitchen’s door frame watching the older Henderson sway his hips around in a yellow apron. It would be almost endearing if the music didn’t make his brain try to collapse on itself. 

He quickly approached the radio and slammed the pause button to save the poor man from further eardrum damage.

“What is this?” he asked when Steve turned to face him.

“Uh. The radio?” he frowned, the poor guy having no idea what he was saying. The top 40 made him delirious.

“What was the radio playing?” Eddie asked in his most condescending tone, eyebrows raised.

“.... ABBA?”

Eddie scoffed.

“I’ll bring you some real music, hang on a second.” And he was gone, on a quest to educate the masses. “Masses” being one Steve Henderson, but as an older brother and Dustin’s role model he had a duty to uphold and Eddie was generous enough to help him out.

He ran out to his car and rummaged through his cassettes, wondering which one was most appropriate for a cooking background. Not a thing he would practice himself, but metalheads eat too, sometimes, so it couldn't be such a farfetched concept. Right?

Eventually, he dumped an armful of tapes on the counter, grinning at Steve wildly.

“One of them has to work for…” he waved a hand in the general direction of chopped-up vegetables. “Whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I will not believe you haven't cooked before.”

Eddie only shrugged at that and popped the first tape of choice into the player. Steve frowned at the tunes but wisely didn't object.

“Since you’re making yourself comfortable in my kitchen, why don’t you help me out a bit?”

“Ah, I’d love to, but there’s this solo I just have to-” he broke into an elaborate air guitar, imitating the riffs from memory while banging his head. He couldn’t see Steve’s face, but he was undoubtedly impressed. Eddie looked metal as fuck. He was super cool, super manly.

“I thought you were just taking a dump but then, guess what? I hear Iron Maiden from the kitchen!”

What wasn’t cool, was being scolded by a fourteen-year-old.

“Got lured by the sweet tunes, huh, big guy?”

“Dustin please, take him away from me.”

Dustin looked between the older boys, one maniacally jumping around, the other wielding a knife and a carrot. He considered his chances and favorable outcomes.

“If we switch to Metallica I’ll help with cooking,” he offered, to which Steve shrugged and Eddie gleefully switched the tapes.

He jumped around, watching the two Hendersons work together and to his absolute terror, he felt a teeny tiny desire to join in. Thankfully, his pride was still hidden beneath a half-dead tree.

He circled them like a curious cat, getting closer and closer, until his face almost squished against Steve’s arm, still dutifully chopping.

“What are we making?”

“We,” Steve accentuated, jostling the intruder's head. “Are making baked vegetables. You are jumping around like a lunatic.”

Eddie gasped.

“I am providing entertainment!”

“Can you provide the baking pan?” Dustin asked dryly. “It’s in the oven.”

“Only if it means I get to taste the fruits of my hard work.”

“You don’t have to help us to get dinner.” Steve bumped his shoulder with a roll of his eyes. “But, helpers get an extra cookie.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?”

Eddie was truly a genius. He got to help out his fake little brother and his older brother without outwardly asking to be included! And to think he failed senior year twice.

“Go do your nerdy things, I’ll call you when it’s done,” Steve wiped his hands on a towel, food in the oven and the timer set. Dustin was more than happy to leave, and was first to run up the stairs. Eddie was about to follow but a light tug on his shirt stopped him. He turned around, confused, only to be met with Steve pressing a finger to his lips, which, more confusion.

Not easing his grasp, he pulled him back into the kitchen and opened one of the cupboards, where he grabbed a jar and popped it open, releasing a mouthwatering aroma.

“One,” he ordered, and without having to be told twice, Eddie reached in to find a chocolate chip cookie.

“You trying to poison me?” he asked, even if his tongue was one slip away from tasting the treat.

“I would never put poison in my baking,” Steve made a face like the mere suggestion offended him. Eddie raised his eyebrows. 

“You made this?”

“Fucking- Eat it before Dustin comes looking for you. I’m trying to be nice.” Steve gritted his teeth, putting the jar back away.

Eddie felt a little bad for pushing him, but only a little. He finally put the cookie in his mouth and took a bite.

Holy shit.

“This is so fucking good!” he mumbled, crumbs flying everywhere, which earned him a disgusted expression.

“Good thing I haven’t swept yet,” Steve murmured, looking at the floor with disdain. “Now scram. Don’t show up until dinner.”

“Yes, sir!” Eddie saluted, crumbs dripping, and ran away, before Steve’s deadly kitchen rag could reach his butt.

User tags: @i-have-three-feelings @mblogs @awkwardgravity1 @imacowboy3 [Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]

[aniseya]

i’m teetering back and forth between how helaemond was dealt with in the finale.

on one hand, i hate that they made him go there and yank her around. it’s not what i consider the same domestic abuse as daemyra, but it’s a form of abuse that is expected when a man descending into madness from trauma, power, grief, and the hunger to be good enough. he tried to drag her in a fit of rage and then the next time she threatened him with accusations and told him of his death, he couldn’t even bring himself to show the same rage.

i never expected helaemond to be healthy, because incest is NEVER healthy. but i feel like with the way they’ve been treating aemond this season to seem like the true villain of team green, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. like i love toxic pairings, but this just isn’t something natural for aemond to do, so it feels disappointing. it’s just there to reinforce that aemond is now the big bad and everyone else on team green aren’t as bad compared to him now. helaena is by the general audience’s opinion the purest character, so to have aemond hurt her feels like a way to hammer that home to the audience. not organic at all, not something in his character, just there.

which is why i’m thankful ewan played into helaemond in that moment on the balcony. aemond seems to regret what he did and the only time he’s shown properly crying is when he’s begging her to come with him. trying to appeal to the fact that they are same blood, that they understand each other when others might not. it’s acted and written like a proposal to fuck off to the ends of the earth together, phantom of the opera, anakin and padme, and gothic romance and all. and even when helaena refuses he still is crying, giving paper thin threats that he doesn’t mean, but just because he’s hurt by her rejection.

istg that balcony scene was perfect imo, in the sense that if it was just written a little bit better and didn’t have the looming connotation that aemond is mr villainous prototype used to make everyone who loved aemond from s1 feel humiliated for loving him and poke fun at helaemonds for enjoying their pairing. and now aegon is being propped up for god knows what, whitewashed in the sense that he’s given more development than aemond, helaena, and more characters above all. like nothing is coming from this, i don’t expect the writers to touch upon helaemond and that scene going forward whatsoever. it all felt like a way to get aemond stans to finally turn against him and to make helaemonds feel bad for enjoying the pairing to the point of making it popular. i’d say helaemond deserved better, but truly the entirety of the characters and the show itself deserved better.

so in the end, i may ship helaemond out of spite for what feels like a slap, simply because ewan delivered so hard for it. and i might not, because my efforts feel just so dull and fruitless that idk if i have the will to carry this energy and love for something that went so so wrong. it feels like got s8 where i needed time to recuperate and process everything before deciding what i wanted to take from it as a fan.

[moralesmilesanhour]

mad props! 03

summary: you're now officially part of the theater club's latest production! just one small problem... wc: 1282 a/n: Can't believe I was able to type this out within the same week. But I diiiid! The songs being performed are: 'Popular' - Wicked 'Ohmigod You guys' - Legally Blonde: The Musical (Original Cast Recording) | Have fun reading ! Feel free to tell me what you thought in the comments <3 (only warning is that the process of putting a theatre production together is probably not super realistic here lmao) 02 03 04

“One five, four five, three five, two five, one five, four five, three-two-one,”

You clutched the white binder containing your sheet music to your chest as you went through every vocal exercise from middle school that you could remember.

From the diaphragm, you reminded yourself, taking another deep breath.

“One five,

Four five,

Three five,

Two five,

One five,

Four five,

Three-two-one–”

“Y/N L/N?” the casting director’s voice called out to you.

Your stomach lurched as you rose from your seat and approached the stage. You handed the sheet music over to the pianist. The blinding stage lights made you sweat beneath your uniform, but part of you was grateful that it hid the faces of your four-person audience. 

The first chord was your cue.

“Whenever I see someone less fortunate than I…”

You sang the lines through your nose, making your delivery as cartoonish as possible. It even earned a few laughs from the dark void in front of you that bolstered your confidence. 

Now, when playing a character such as Galinda, one may be tempted to keep the squeaky ‘princess voice’ the whole way through. But you knew better. 

You added depth to your voice for some lines, maybe a growl here, a cry there; your performance needed to show that you could do more than just play the pretty soprano lead.

You belted the final note, arms spread wide as if you weren’t just about to vomit from nerves, and curtsied.

There was disembodied applause, and then: “Thank you, we’ll be sure to send out an email on Friday to let you know if you got the part.”

“Thanks,” you exhaled as you stepped down from the stage. 

All that there was left to do was wait.

You were jumpy all Friday afternoon. Even Miles noticed your knee making your desks tremble with the way it bounced up and down in the middle of English class.

“Yo, you good?” he whispered.

You shot him a glare while tapping your pencil frantically. “None of your business.”

“It actually is my business,” he shot back, teeth clenched, “ ‘cuz you’re shaking the damn desk.”

“Is there a problem back there?” the English professor peered over his glasses at the two of you.

“Nope,” Miles sighed. “Not at all.”

Your leg stopped bouncing, and you rested your chin on top of folded hands.

“If you must know,” you muttered, “I had an audition the other day, and callbacks are supposed to be this evening.”

He furrowed his brows. “Oh…kay…?”

“What do you mean ‘okay’? I’m super nervous about it–”

“I mean, why are you telling me this?”

Your eyes widened. Why were you telling him this?

“I…well, you’re sitting next to me, and you asked–” 

“I didn’t ask for allat.”

You kissed your teeth, and went back to taking notes in silence.

-

“Oh, the principal’s gonna love that.”

Joshua Baptiste–current president of Visions’ art club–grinned as he watched Miles add his signature to the wide sheet of paper.

Miles replaced the cap on one of his paint markers with a click, assessing his work.

It was a poster for an upcoming pep rally, advertised in bold, sleek letters that curled in and around each other and ended in sharp arrows. Satisfied, he rose to his feet.

“You think?”

“Hell yeah. Better than anything I could’ve put together,” Joshua ran a hand through loose, sandy curls. “I’m more of a portraits kinda guy.”

The boy’s smile was contagious, showing off two rows of light blue braces. Miles remembered how he used to circle back around to his lunch table just to see them when he laughed with his friends, silver earrings tinkling as he threw his head back. 

He’d done crazier things just to see a crush.

Miles returned the compliment, “Your paintings go crazy, though. You could get into art school if you put a portfolio together.”

Joshua shrugged. “Doubt my parents would ever let me go.”

The other hummed in agreement.

“Anywho, I came over here to ask you a favor. Theater club needs an extra pair of hands working on the set, and I already said one of our guys would help out. You in?”

Miles raised an eyebrow at the sudden new project being dumped on him, but he relented. Not like he had anything better to do today.

“Sure. Where to?”

Joshua’s face lit up, and he gestured for Miles to follow him.

“They’re down in the auditorium. You’re a life-saver, man.”

The auditorium was already bustling with students when the two boys entered. There was one group on the far right busy customizing piles of hot-pink costumes with bows and sequins. On the left side, a bunch of kids clutched wrinkled scripts in their hands, practicing until it was time to run through the first few songs. Miles looked up, and taking center stage was a group of no more than ten girls practicing what looked like stage choreography. 

Regardless of what each group was working on, there was an urgency bordering on panic to their movements and voices. Miles thanked his past self for not signing up to be a part of it.

“Oh, thank god!”

A tall, stocky-looking girl wearing pink glasses scurried up to them, carrying a clipboard.

Joshua gestured towards Miles. “Here’s your guy! He’s got an eye for color, you’re in good hands.”

He gave a quick salute before turning to exit through the double doors.

The girl stuck out her hand. “I’m Sarah Park, junior, and student production manager for, uh, all of this!”

Miles accepted the handshake and nodded. “Cool. What’s your vision for the set?”

“Well, it’s…”

Before Sarah could finish, the lights dimmed, and a voice announced: “We’re gonna rehearse the opening, everyone in ‘Ohmigod You Guys’, please take your places!”

She grabbed Miles’ wrist and led him to a seat in the front row and whispered, “You should probably just see it.”

Suddenly, music boomed from the speakers as the stage lights illuminated the same girls from before, now all standing in a straight line across the stage with wide smiles.

They sang a number he didn’t recognize, but there was plenty of squealing as they passed down a blank sheet of paper as a prop. He deduced from the few lyrics he caught that they were playing sorority girls, but that was about it.

As the “Ohmigods” crescendoed, Miles noticed that there was someone entering from backstage that then stood behind the girls. He wondered what for, until the group parted and stepped to the side.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for who stood in the middle of the stage. In a blonde wig.

“It’s almost there, but…”

Miles’ jaw dropped as you recited your lines fully in-character. 

It hadn’t occurred to him that you could smile without malice, but people were full of surprises: Here was the girl who rarely spoke more than a sentence in class until last week, belting her heart out while twirling across the stage. He would have pinned you as more of the debater type.

The song ended on one final “Oh my god!” in unison before the lights were turned back up.

“Great job, everyone, especially for a first run-through. Everybody take five!”

You sighed in relief, wiping away the sweat collecting around your hairline from being beneath a hot wig and an even hotter spotlight. Wig in hand, you carefully descended down the steps with the rest of the cast and made your way back to your seats.

Sarah brushed past you in between aisles, along with a familiar red hoodie.

You paused and spun around on your heel, confirming your fears. 

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.